


Infinite Probability (Has Beens, Would Bes and Never Weres)

by torakowalski



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-04-21
Updated: 2006-04-21
Packaged: 2017-10-18 19:28:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/192421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/torakowalski/pseuds/torakowalski
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So far, the only people who had disappeared were ones Rodney didn’t particularly care about and so he had put their absence down to their own incompetence. It wasn’t until Zelenka disappeared that he realised something more than stupidity was at work here. If he were someone other than himself, he might feel bad about his priorities.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Infinite Probability (Has Beens, Would Bes and Never Weres)

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers through SGA seasons 1&2 and SG-1 7x18 _Heroes Pt 2_
> 
>  _Thanks to_ [](http://janne-d.livejournal.com/profile)[**janne_d**](http://janne-d.livejournal.com/) _once again for beta_

On MH5-302, they found one of the most bizarre pieces of Ancient tech so far. It was the size and shape of a large egg and regularly shifted between all the colours of the rainbow. So far they’d narrowed it down to either an Ancient barometer or the offspring of a really scary chicken.

Rodney was the one to find it. When he picked it up the rainbow patterns started but it didn’t do anything else, so he called Sheppard over to see if it needed a natural gene to activate. Rodney hated when that happened. Sheppard looked at it and said _Oh cool_ , but when he touched it, still nothing happened. Rodney did his best not to gloat.

Still, as Sheppard said, it was cool, so they took it back to Atlantis with them. In a few days, Rodney will realise that was a mistake.

~

The first thing that happened barely registered as a thing at all. One of the anthropologists arranged to come see the Rainbow Egg, as Sheppard insisted on calling it. Rodney hung around all morning – well, he actually stood at his own work station doing his own work, but he remembered she was supposed to be coming every half hour or so, which was distracting and definitely counted as waiting – but she never turned up.

Which was annoying.

Even more annoying was the fact no one knew who he was talking about when he later tried to get in touch with her. Rodney didn’t think too much about it; it was just more proof that he was the only competent person around.

Rodney set a couple of his people to examine the Egg – Rodney was never willingly going to describe anything as “rainbow” while sober – then went off-world with his team.

The mission was their usual, run-of-the-mill type. They met the vaguely hostile natives, spent a few hours following anomalous energy readings and convincing the natives to be a little less vaguely hostile, fought the Big Bad, and went home with no ZPM and some new friends.

He decided not to go back to the labs that night. Well, not such much _decided_ , more was manipulated into taking part in a team-bonding night of movies and defrosted pizza by Sheppard’s puppy-dog eyes.

~

The next morning, he found the Egg sitting exactly where he had left it, looking completely untouched. Great, just great. _Morons_.

“Radek,” he snagged Zelenka’s arm as he passed, only incidentally liberating him of the mug of fresh coffee he had been carrying. “What happened to Whatsit and Thingy?”

Zelenka rolled his eyes, “Could you be a little more specific?” His now-empty hand flexed pitifully.

“Blond girl, Asian guy. Neither of them say much. They were supposed to be working on the Egg device I found.”

Zelenka frowned. “You have not yet assigned anyone to look at the Egg. You said task would be allotted to whoever managed to screw up least this week. Remember?”

“No.” Rodney shook his head, confused. “I told Thingy and Whatsit to look at it.”

“I thought it was Whatsit and Thingy,” Zelenka said easily, but he frowned at Rodney a little, as if worried for his sanity.

“You know what, never mind. _You_ look at it, okay?”

Rodney turned and walked over to his own desk, ignoring Zelenka’s mumbled, “That was my coffee.”

~

So far, the only people who had disappeared were ones Rodney didn’t particularly care about and so he had put their absence down to their own incompetence. It wasn’t until Zelenka disappeared that he realised something more than stupidity was at work here. If he were someone other than himself, he might feel bad about his priorities.

Too many people Rodney had grown fond of had died on this mission. One of the things he liked best about Radek was his steadfast desire to avoid any and all danger.

Another thing Rodney liked about Radek – though he’d deny it to his dying day – was that he was independent enough not to come running the moment Rodney called. Not coming running the _second_ time Rodney called, though, that was just rude. So he was already pissed off before he looked up and found everyone in the room staring at him.

“What?” he snapped.

“Uh, who are you calling for?” Miko asked, stepping forward nervously and wringing her hands.

“Dr Zelenka,” Rodney said, in his best _You really are all morons_ voice. “Scruffy, Czech, the only one of you with more than half a brain?”

She blinked at him solemnly from behind her huge glasses, “There is no one here of that name, Dr McKay.”

“Is it April Fools’ Day?” Rodney asked slowly, but without much hope. Miko was the only person on this whole expedition he trusted not to play tricks on him given the chance.

~

“Radek Zelenka,” Rodney said, shouldering his way into Elizabeth’s office, “Remember him?” He didn’t say, _I’m fairly certain you’re screwing him_. But if it came to it he would.

“Zelenka?” Elizabeth asked, “Rodney, do we really have to go through this again?”

“Go through what?”

“Dr Zelenka made the decision to stay on Earth, I can’t force him to leave his wife.” She sat back and looked at him over the tips of her fingers.

Wife? Huh. Rodney and Radek didn’t talk much about personal things, but he was certain he’d know if Radek had had a wife. This was all very strange.

“Rodney,” Elizabeth was saying kindly, “Are you feeling all right?”

“I’m fine,” Rodney told her roughly. She _hmmed_ thoughtfully then sent him to the infirmary.

~

The nurse pushed him onto the nearest bed and told him to wait for the doctor. Rodney waited and fretted and wondered what he’d do if the doctor turned out not to be Carson.

“Well, Rodney,” a wonderfully familiar voice said, and Rodney almost had an embarrassingly emotional moment. “What have you been doing to yourself this time?”

“Carson,” Rodney grabbed his wrist, “Something’s wrong.”

“Aye, and that’s why you’re here, so we can find out what.”

“No, no, no. Not with me.” And when was the last time Rodney had ever admitted to there _not_ being something wrong with him? Carson obviously had the same thought because he looked up from his clipboard and frowned.

“People are disappearing. I’ve noticed four so far, but there might be more.” Rodney said quickly, trying to make use of Carson’s attention now that he had it. “Do you remember Radek Zelenka?”

“Of course I do, Rodney.” Carson said slowly, looking worried, “I don’t think I’ll ever forget the way you and he hounded me to use that damn Chair in Antarctica.”

“But you think he stayed on Earth?”

“Aye?” Even slower now.

“He didn’t. He came with us. He… He’s been surprisingly helpful.” Rodney sorted quickly through his memories, looking for something he wouldn’t have been able to achieve without Radek. One instance came strongly to mind. “What happened when the ‘jumper crashed? Who rescued me?”

“’Jumper crash?”

Maybe it hadn’t happened. Maybe Griffin was fine, maybe he was still ferrying people to and from the mainland, filling their heads with his nonsensical idea of science. “Griffin?”

“Rodney,” Carson said kindly, “You can’t still be blaming yourself for that. You and Colonel Sheppard saved Dr Kavanagh, that’s something.”

“Kavanagh?” Rodney spluttered, momentarily distracted, “Kavanagh’s around and Radek isn’t? How is that fair? Okay, what about… How did you get Cadman out of my head without Radek?”

Carson’s expression was sad now, below the worry, “We didn’t.”

“Didn’t?” Rodney cast about in his mind, looking for the world’s most annoying Marine. When he found nothing he realised what Carson had meant. “She let go? She let herself die? For me? Carson, I’m really sorry.”

“For what, lad?” Carson asked, busying himself getting something out of a cabinet by the bed, “I hardly knew her. Though she seemed a lovely girl. Now,” The last time Carson’s voice had been this kind was when Rodney was in the middle of Wraith-drug withdrawal. He wondered if that had happened in this strange new world. “Why don’t you lie down and I’ll do a couple of tests?”

“I’m perfectly fine,” Rodney tried to argue, but Carson pushed him down firmly and Rodney let himself submit. Maybe there _was_ something wrong with him. Maybe he was hallucinating this whole thing.

Carson slid a needle into Rodney’s arm, stealing his blood in his usual vampiric way, but for once Rodney didn’t complain. One of the reasons Rodney avoided getting drunk with Carson was because Beckett got maudlin and weepy when he’d had a few. Rodney had spent far too many nights in Antarctica listening to reminiscences of Carson’s mum and the legendary quality of her oatcakes.

But once or twice he hadn’t been able to avoid it on Atlantis, and in between sniffling wetly into Rodney’s shoulder and telling Rodney to “Snap the Colonel up before someone else does”, Carson had told him he’d only made it through the last few months because of Laura Cadman. The idea of Carson having to work on the Wraith retrovirus, having to test it on Michael, having to go through the guilt of what he’d done to Elia and to Sheppard, without Cadman to go home to, hurt even Rodney’s hardened heart.

“I’ll just go run the tests, Rodney,” Carson said, patting his arm. Rodney nodded and closed his eyes. Something was so very wrong, he needed to work it out, but he felt strangely tired, unable to concentrate. He knew the answer was somewhere, on the edge of his thoughts, the tip of his tongue, but every time he got close, it skittered away. Rodney hated not being on the top of his game; maybe he really was sick.

“Well, Rodney,” said a voice jolting him out of his thinking, a voice that definitely wasn’t Carson’s. “Nothing looks to be the matter.” Janet Fraiser stood in the doorway.

Rodney discharged himself.

~

Inside his quarters, the door locked firmly behind him, Rodney paced a well-worn path back and forth. Outside his window, the sky was a deep blue and the sun shone brightly. It was a little past lunchtime, but for once Rodney wasn’t thinking about food.

He knew what was going on, but he didn’t. He had the answers, but his brain was too muddled to access them. It was as if something were stopping him from working it out and it was driving him crazy. He’d never admit it, but right now he’d kill for Radek to brainstorm with.

Frustrated and a little dizzy, he grabbed a pen and a notebook and slumped down in front of the door. What did he know?

People were disappearing. (The anthropologist; Thingy and Whatsit; Zelenka. Cadman hadn’t exactly disappeared, but she was still gone. Rodney really didn’t want to activate his radio and find out who else was gone.)

People were coming back from the dead. (Obviously, there was Janet. And while Rodney had never been able to tell Stackhouse and Markham apart he was fairly certain it wasn’t Stackhouse he’d passed in the hallway on his way here.)

Okay, obviously he was in some kind of parallel dimension. Except, that wasn’t quite right. Zelenka _had_ been here. So had Carson. They’d both disappeared after he noticed the other changes.

Rodney put his head back against the door and screwed up his eyes. This was the kind of situation that called for a genius. He _was_ a genius. He’d be fine.

One interpretation of quantum theory stated that the universe was split into an infinite number of copies of itself in which every possible outcome to every decision ever made all existed somewhere in an infinitely layered multi-universe. But, what if, here and now, they no longer existed within discrete universes? What if they were somehow overlapping with more and more parallel experiences bleeding into this space? That would explain the changes he had noticed and the fact that these changes were ongoing.

Okay, he had a theory. That was good. He liked theories. Time to test it.

~

“The Egg we found on MH5-302, we need to turn it off.”

Elizabeth looked up, “I wasn’t aware we’d turned it on,” she said mildly, waving away someone in a blue and tan science uniform who Rodney had never seen before.

“Well, neither was I, but if I’m wrong and it’s not the Egg… well, I’m never wrong so it must be. Now, I should be able to turn it off myself, but I’ll need my team as backup. Where are they?”

“I think Teyla and Ronon are in the gym, I’m not sure about Colonel Sheppard. Rodney, what’s going on?”

“Oh, just saving the day as usual.” He tapped his radio, “Teyla, Ronon, Colonel Sheppard.”

He got static and more static and one, “Yeah?”

“Uh, never mind,” he mumbled and turned slowly back to Elizabeth. “Where are Teyla and Ronon?” he asked her.

She shook her head, “I’m sorry, Rodney, I don’t know them.”

“Okay,” This was bad. “Okay. Right, uh, good. Fine. Carry on.” He nodded to her and left her office. The lights flickered out behind him as he crossed through the doorway and by the time he’d turned around again Elizabeth’s office was nothing more than a stock cupboard.

Rodney stopped and leaned back against the wall, ignoring the confused looks from the control team, because they’d be gone in a minute anyway.

Elizabeth had remembered Ronon and Teyla and then less than a minute later hadn’t remembered either of them. The Egg (and it had to be the Egg that was causing this) was clever. It had known that Rodney wanted their help to track it down, and so it had eliminated them.

 _It was a good job he wanted Colonel Sheppard for something different_. He thought loudly, and not particularly subtly, to himself. _Something else entirely_.

~

He hurried down the corridor to Sheppard’s quarters, doing his best not to think what he was going to do if Sheppard wasn’t there.

The door opened on the second knock and Rodney felt a moment of intense relief before taking a good look at the man in front of him. “What the hell happened to you?” he blurted.

Sheppard raised an eyebrow questioningly, “Nice to see you too, Rodney.”

“No, I mean…” Rodney indicated Sheppard’s appearance helplessly. He looked terrible. Well, still ridiculously attractive, but otherwise terrible. He looked like he should look after the two very hard years they’d just had: pale and thin and drawn. But it was more than that. There was silver in his hair that shouldn’t have been there, and the fine lines around his eyes were deeper.

“Oh God,” Rodney said, touching Sheppard’s bristled cheek before he could stop himself, “When? How much did they take?”

Sheppard stepped back, eyes narrowing, “What are you doing, McKay? Is this some kind of joke?”

“No, oh God, I’m so sorry.” Rodney felt sick and upset, like his insides were being twisted. “I didn’t know, I didn’t think. This is all wrong.”

He was dimly aware of Sheppard’s hand on his arm, drawing him into the room and guiding him down onto the bed.

“Rodney, what’s wrong?”

“A Wraith drained you.” Rodney said numbly, knowing that hadn’t been what Sheppard meant.

“Yeah,” the hand fell away from his arm. “I am aware of that, thank you.”

“How?”

“Okay, what’s going on? You were there.”

“Pretend I don’t know, okay?” Rodney asked, desperately, “Tell me like I don’t know.”

“Rodney.” Sheppard rubbed the back of his neck. It was such a _Sheppard_ gesture that Rodney felt all torn up again. “I zigged when I shoulda zagged. You know that. There’s nothing more I can tell you.”

Rodney didn’t even try to pinpoint when in his timeline the change had happened. There were a million times Sheppard _had_ zagged. He was good at zagging.

Rodney had had a bad day. People he cared about were disappearing all over the city; other people, people he had cared and grieved for but moved on from, were suddenly reappearing. And now this, some bastard Wraith had taken what had to be at least five years away from Sheppard’s life. Rodney began to miss the first thirty-odd years of his life when he hadn’t cared about anyone except his cat.

“Hey,” Sheppard’s hand was on his shoulder, “Hey, Rodney. What’s wrong?”

Rodney blinked through his suddenly blurred vision (cataracts, he thought distantly, should get checked for cataracts because no way was he crying) and saw Sheppard leaning into him, looking concerned and affectionate and like the man Rodney knew.

“What’s wrong?” Rodney echoed disbelievingly, “Everything’s different. A Wraith got you. Elizabeth’s gone. Does that mean… are you in charge of the city?”

Sheppard’s brow creased and he looked confused. He reached up and cupped Rodney’s cheek lightly. The calluses on his fingers were still there. “You’re not making much sense,” he pointed out softly.

“John,” Rodney leaned forwards almost before he knew what he was going to do and, by the time he realised, Sheppard’s lips had parted against his. Mouth hot and desperate and drawing Rodney in.

Dimly, Rodney was aware that he hadn’t come here for this reason. That there was something else he was meant to be doing. But he’d been waiting two years to do this; he wasn’t going to give it up for a nagging feeling like he’d left the oven on.

“Everyone’s disappearing,” he breathed into Sheppard’s skin.

“What?” Sheppard drew back, hands warm and solid and real on Rodney’s arms, “Rodney, what?”

But Rodney was on a schedule; he didn’t know how much longer he’d have Sheppard for. He fumbled his hands under Sheppard’s shirt, pushing it up and off. The first time Rodney saw Sheppard’s chest was while he was dying at the back of a ‘jumper and there began a long history of Rodney being attracted to Sheppard at inappropriate moments. Finally being allowed to be attracted was almost enough to short-circuit his brain. To make him forget this was a one-shot deal.

Despite the added years, Sheppard was still toned and ludicrously hot. His chest hair had more grey and the slight swell of belly that was barely noticeable in Rodney’s memory was now a little more pronounced. Rodney found he liked it. He reached out and traced one finger over Sheppard’s erect, dusky nipple.

Sheppard made a noise low in his throat and flipped them over. “Oh God, Rodney, finally.” Sheppard whispered, straddling Rodney’s hips and beginning to peel Rodney out of his shirt. The shirt he’d put on fresh this morning and felt like he’d been wearing for days.

Rodney wound both hands in Sheppard’s hair – still thick and abundant, how was that fair? – and pulled his head down, groaning when Sheppard bent from the waist and bit at his throat, smoothing his palm and dancing his fingers across Rodney’s chest.

“They’re disappearing,” he ground out between gasps, trying to keep some focus. He wanted Sheppard to know, couldn’t stand the thought of him ceasing to exist and not knowing why. “Like they never existed. Elizabeth’s gone, and I know what you’re going to say: there never was an Elizabeth; this has always been a military expedition. Just like we apparently have a dead MD and I didn’t bring one person who can actually understand my work. That’s bullshit and I don’t believe it. Everyone’s going and so will you.”

“Rodney,” Sheppard was still whispering. Rodney didn’t know if he was listening, if he thought Rodney was crazy, or if he just didn’t care. He was alternatively sucking and biting his way across Rodney’s shoulders and chest, and his hands were everywhere. Frantic, he was frantic. Rodney felt flattered and amazed and as if he was missing something vital.

He tightened his grip on Sheppard’s hair and pulled his head back. Sheppard’s eyes were dark with lust and wide with desperation.

“Fuck.” Rodney said succinctly. Finally understanding. “You’re in charge of the _city_.” He thought about what that would do to Sheppard, his Sheppard, about Sheppard in charge of Atlantis without Elizabeth to act as a buffer. The answer was nothing good. He rolled them over again, and smoothed his hands down warm sides, letting his fingers bounce over too-obvious ribs, stretching out beside Sheppard’s body and kissing his lips as softly as he knew how.

“It won’t be much longer,” he said as he mouthed Sheppard’s jaw, no longer sure if it was a warning or a promise. “You’ll be gone like the others.”

“Rodney,” Sheppard’s voice broke on the “O” as Rodney bit down on his adam’s apple, “I’m not going anywhere.”

“You are. You will. And no one will remember you either. I’ll be the only one left who remembers you. And I _will_ remember you.”

Later, when Sheppard was blowing him, Rodney draped an arm over his eyes and said, “I don’t understand why I remember, why it’s letting me remember. If it’s trying to be cruel, you would have been a better target. Or Elizabeth. You care about people. I don’t care about people; I don’t even like them.”

Sheppard looked up at him, mouth slick and red, “You care.”

And later still, when they were lying on stained sheets in Sheppard’s devastated bed, Sheppard lay sprawled on his back, eyes slits, expression sleepy and said, “See? Still here.”

Rodney shifted closer and wrapped an arm around Sheppard’s waist, “Not for much longer.”

“You really believe this, don’t you?”

Rodney considered saying something sarcastic. Of course he believed it, did Sheppard think this was a really elaborate joke? But Rodney had never had a warm, naked, sleepy Sheppard in his bed and he never would again, so all he said was, “Yes.” And hoped the _Well, obviously_ came across.

“So shouldn’t you be trying to fix it?”

Huh. That was a good question. _Shouldn’t_ he be? But even as he wondered, he dismissed the thought. He kissed the centre of Sheppard’s chest. “In a little while.” _I’ll wait with you_. He didn’t say.

There was a moment’s pause then Sheppard shifted onto his side and slid his leg over Rodney’s, “Tell me about them? Elizabeth and everyone else I don’t remember.”

It didn’t happen until the early morning. Rodney was starting to believe he’d been wrong. To _hope_ he’d been wrong. He’d talked himself hoarse and now they were kissing. Slow, measured, sleepy kisses. Sheppard had a hand on his cheek and Rodney’s fingers were wrapped around his wrist. He felt Sheppard smile against his mouth. And then between one kiss and the next, there was nothing left to feel.

~

Rodney was half way through a shower when he realised he’d been stupid. Rodney didn’t like feeling stupid, he did his best never to feel stupid and he had a tendency to take it out on other people when he did. But right now, standing under the shower in empty quarters, which were Sheppard’s in another life, washing away the scent of sex that hadn’t happened in this timeline, he realised he hadn’t just been stupid. He’d been utterly, unforgivably dumb.

He’d assumed that the Egg hadn’t affected him just because he remembered the changes. But Sheppard had asked why Rodney hadn’t done anything about it and now Rodney realised he had. Or almost had. A hundred times. A thousand. But every time he made the decision to destroy the device he forgot. The device was reversing this one, specific decision of his, just as it was reversing seemingly random decisions of everyone else. Obviously, it was having a different effect on him because he was the one who activated it. But it must have some kind of defence mechanism that worked to prevent him deactivating it. He wondered if that was deliberate or a design fault.

Well, not this time, this time he knew what it was doing and he wasn’t about to be tricked. It had taken everyone Rodney cared about. It had taken Sheppard. Now Rodney was getting them back.

“Fuck,” he muttered, stumbling out of the shower and hunting for a towel. Which, obviously, weren’t exactly in abundance in unoccupied quarters. “Stupid,” he berated himself, hopping around on one foot while he tried to pull pants on over shower-wet legs. He used his t-shirt to rub once at his hair then zipped up his jacket over his bare chest.

He let himself out of Sheppard’s quarters, hurried into the nearest transporter and hit the map. Two seconds later he was in the command centre.

It was only just dawn so there was no one around except the night shift and they did nothing more than blink at him sleepily or offer an almost-wave. The Canadian whose name Rodney still didn’t know was slumped back in his seat, fast asleep. Rodney wheeled him out of the way and pulled another chair up to the desk. It didn’t take him long to find what he was looking for. Or rather, fail to find. He’d spent enough time on city diagnostics that he knew the layout by heart. So when he saw from the map he’d pulled up that the room at the end of corridor 3B – otherwise known as _his lab_ – apparently didn’t exist, he thought that might be a good place to start.

He was nearly there when he heard someone call his name.

Rodney stopped and turned around slowly, “Yes?” He felt his mouth fall open when he saw who was jogging down the corridor toward him. Ford. Shit, shit.

“Where you going?” Ford asked, stopping beside him and offering a grin.

“Oh, just to the labs.” Rodney said, automatically, unable to take his eyes off Ford. He looked fine. Looked healthy. Looked like a twenty-six year old Marine not the bastardised mockery the Wraith had left them with.

“Cool,” Rodney had forgotten how bright Ford’s grin could be, “Mind if I tag along?”

“I won’t be doing anything interesting. Just physics. Boring, boring stuff.”

“C’mon, Doc,” Ford said “You know Colonel Everett doesn’t like civilians walking around down here without an escort. It’ll be easier if you let me come with.”

“Fine,” Rodney said, trying to sound annoyed but failing. It might be good to have some back up in case the Egg had some other defence mechanism in place. Plus, even though he and Ford had never exactly been close, they hadn’t been strangers either, and Rodney had missed him.

In the end it was painfully easy. Apparently whoever had made the Egg – and Rodney would be going back to MH5 302 to find that out – hadn’t felt the need to give it any more protection than its ability to make people forget. Or maybe it had been meant as an experiment, not meant to cause trouble like this. Either way, they had clearly not banked on one seriously pissed off astrophysicist.

Ford looked confused when Rodney strode past all the visible lab doors, then startled and wary when Rodney kept walking, knowing he was right, knowing it was there, and his lab materialised around them.

The Egg was in the centre of the room, looking innocent and still blinking its pretty lights.

“McKay?” Ford asked, P90 raised, “What’s going on?”

“Just sorting out a problem, Lieutenant.” Rodney found himself unable to look Ford in the eye.

He knelt down beside the Egg and prepared to think _Off_ just as loudly and as clearly as he could. He looked up at Ford. Ford’s smile was lingering at the corners of his mouth but his eyes were just starting to frown.

“Something wrong?”

“No,” Rodney shook his head. “No, I…” He felt he should say something, something like _I know Sheppard would never have told you this, but he was proud of you_ or _You’re not quite the idiot I always said you were_. But he was just about to ruin this kid’s life; he didn’t think a motivational speech would help any. “No. Nothing’s wrong.”

He turned back to the Egg and thought _Off_.

There was a pastel-coloured flash. And then nothing.

Rodney was certain he’d achieved something. The Egg had stopped its imitation of every little girl’s dream and now sat inert of the desk. And Ford was no longer by his side. The lab was still deserted, but that could be because it was still horribly early in the morning.

Exhausted, Rodney crawled over to the nearest wall and slumped down against it, head and hands between his knees. Gradually, he heard people moving around in the room, heard questions and concerned voices over his head, but didn’t respond. He was exhausted; if it hadn’t worked, he didn’t want to know.

Finally, he heard a voice he recognised. “Rodney?” And he looked up, blinking at Cadman through blurry eyes. “Are you all right?”

She offered him a hand and he accepted it, letting himself be braced to his feet. Her hand was warm and reassuringly strong and real in his and suddenly overwhelmed he couldn’t stop himself pulling her into a hug.

“Okay.” He felt her pat his back uncertainly. “I’m going to call Carson.”

Rodney was so relieved he could have wept.

~

“So you’re saying,” Elizabeth was summarising, “That we all just… disappeared? I’m sorry Rodney, but you must see that’s a little hard to understand.”

Rodney shook his head, “This is just typical. First you don’t believe me when I tell you that you exist, now you don’t believe me when I tell you that you didn’t.”

“Is fascinating,” Radek said, eyes shining with scientific fervour. Any other time, Rodney would have been right there with him in his excitement. In this instance, he was busy sorting through ‘gate addresses for an abandoned planet they could send the Egg to.

Abruptly, he turned to Radek, “Are you married?”

Radek’s eyes widened. Rodney hadn’t told them specifics; he didn’t think they needed to know. “Once,” he said slowly, “Once I thought about it. We decided it was more important for me to go to America.”

It took the rest of the day for Rodney to finish answering everyone’s questions and to convince them they needed to destroy the Egg. He stood in the ‘gate room and supervised while Cadman and Stackhouse wheeled in through the ‘gate to destroy in one of MJ6-58H’s semi-active volcanoes – Rodney wasn’t letting anyone with the gene anywhere near it, himself included.

Then he staggered wearily off to bed. He’d been exhausted early this morning, by now he was at a stage where he couldn’t think beyond _Wraith bad, bed pretty_. Somewhere at the back of his mind he was glad he was this tired. He didn’t want to have to think about what he’d seen, what had happened to the alternate-Sheppard, what had happened between them.

It had been torture sitting with Sheppard during today’s briefings, especially when the man had so obviously _understood_ the quantum theory Rodney and Radek were spouting. It had been a relief when Sheppard had been called away.

Rodney thought his door open and walked into his quarters. He knew he was going to have to deal with this, but not tonight. Tonight he was just… going to find John Sheppard fast asleep on his bed.

Oh.

Rodney stopped just inside the room and blinked at him. There was no way Sheppard could remember anything, so what the hell was he doing here? He took a moment, studying Sheppard’s face. Sheppard was a couple of years older than Rodney, but he’d always looked younger. Now, compared to Rodney’s most recent memories, he looked almost painfully young.

“Sheppard,” Rodney said softly, touching his shoulder. “Colonel.”

Sheppard started awake instantly and sat up. “Hey,” he said, scrubbing his hands across his face, “Guess I fell asleep.”

“Your powers of observation have always astounded me,” Rodney said, but it didn’t come out half as biting as he might have wished. Sheppard’s features were still soft and half asleep and it brought back bittersweet memories for Rodney. But not for Sheppard, he reminded himself. “Can I ask why you’re sleeping in my bed? And yes, I’m well aware I sound like one of the Three Bears, there’s no need to point that out.”

Sheppard quirked a grin at him, “Waiting for you.” He stood up and walked slowly toward Rodney.

“Well,” Rodney said, taking an automatic step backwards, “Here I am.”

“Yeah,” Sheppard agreed. He flicked his gaze over Rodney’s shoulder and grinned. A moment later Rodney felt his back connect with the wall. “There you are.”

“What are you, what are we?” Rodney stammered, utterly distracted by the gleam in Sheppard’s eyes.

“Rodney,” Sheppard said quietly, “Shut up.”

And then they were kissing.

Rodney had kissed Sheppard before but Sheppard had never kissed him, and that was weird enough to throw Rodney out of the kiss.

“Wait,” he said, sagging back, caught between Sheppard’s hard, hot body against his front and the cool, metal wall against his back. “There’s no way you can remember this.”

Sheppard’s smile was briefly, incongruously, triumphant then he shook his head. “I don’t.”

“So how did you know?”

“Rodney,” Sheppard leaned forward and kissed the curve of Rodney’s jaw. Rodney’s breath hitched. “We’ve been working up to this for months. If you’d had the chance to see how I felt with no consequences and hadn’t taken it, I’d be really disappointed in you.”

Rodney felt slightly dizzy with relief. Well, at least partly with relief, he really didn’t have much room here. “Uh, claustrophobic,” he said, pushing against Sheppard’s shoulder.

“Sorry,” Sheppard grabbed his wrist and pulled him over to the bed, sitting down beside him and settling in to suck on Rodney’s throat again.

“You, uh, you don’t think this is weird?” Rodney asked, running his fingertips through Sheppard’s thick dark hair and tilting his head for better access. “That we’ve, you know, been together, and you don’t remember?”

Sheppard pulled back, which was what Rodney had been hoping he wouldn’t do. “We’ve ‘been together’?” he asked, making the air quotes with his eyebrows. He grinned, “Alternate-me was a slut, huh?”

“No,” Rodney said, “No, he was…” but Sheppard cut him off.

“Don’t tell me, ‘kay?” he said, looking down at their hands as he tangled them together, “I don’t need to know.”

Rodney nodded, thinking of the other Sheppard’s hardness and desperation, of what he must have gone through and seen. This Sheppard, his Sheppard, had been through a lot, but he wasn’t there yet. If Rodney had his way, he never would be. “What would you rather do?” he asked softly.

“Well,” Sheppard raised his head, expression turning sly, “Since I’ve already put out…” and he tumbled them backwards onto the bed.

End

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. Title obviously from Douglas Adams  
> 2\. Subtitle from Johnny Cash  
> 3\. Rodney’s quantum theory explanation is ~~stolen~~ paraphrased from _Before I Sleep_  
> 


End file.
